Sorry for Your Loss, It's Me, I'm the Loss novel Chapter 117

“What are you doing?” the assistant shrieked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Yvonne ignored her and marched straight into the director’s office. Peter was at his desk and jumped in surprise when she burst in.

Yvonne pulled up a chair and sat down opposite him, her chin tilted up defiantly. “You’re Peter, right? My father probably told you that from now on, I’ll be supervising your department. Start by bringing me the financial reports for the last two years. I need to review them.”

“Mr. Zade, she just walked in here! It’s not my fault!” the assistant cried, rushing in behind her. “And she threw this month’s expense receipts in the trash!”

Peter shot his assistant a furious glare. “Go get Miss Jones a cup of coffee.”

The assistant begrudgingly left and returned a moment later with a cup of instant coffee.

“Miss Jones, please have some coffee,” Peter said with a strained smile.

“No, thank you. I’m here to learn, not to drink your cheap instant coffee. Get me those reports. Don’t waste my time. I have plans to go shopping with my friends this afternoon.” Yvonne began to idly rifle through the papers on his desk, perfectly playing the part of a spoiled, clueless heiress.

“Wow, that’s a lot!” Yvonne exclaimed, feigning surprise. She carried the stack into the empty office that had once belonged to Queena. She had the secretary bring her snacks, and she spent the day lazily flipping through the pages, taking a nap in the large executive chair whenever she got tired.

She may have looked like a complete amateur, but in reality, Yvonne had specialized in economic crimes at the police academy. Reading financial statements was second nature to her.

She went through two years of Nexus Media’s official reports and found nothing out of the ordinary. These were the public-facing books, subject to tax audits. It was no wonder George had let her see them. If Nexus Media was engaged in any illegal activities, there had to be a second, hidden set of books somewhere.

Yvonne leaned back in the chair, munching on potato chips, and considered her next move.